


Daddy's Darling

by distantstarlight



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Daddy Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Happy Friday 13th!, Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Roulette, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Undercover, Valentine's Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 06:06:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3346313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantstarlight/pseuds/distantstarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disguises are part of the package when you work as detectives, there was nothing new about that but one day Sherlock goes undercover with his best friend and they discover more than the answer to the crime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daddy's Darling

**Author's Note:**

> I realized it was Friday the 13th so I decided to post a just for fun kink fic to tide everyone over until I begin my next big story. There is practically no plot involved. I just had an itch to scratch.

Perhaps things had been building up for a while but John and Sherlock were so amazingly good at denying what was between them that they did nothing to prevent the upward ratcheting of sexual tension between them until absolutely everyone they knew was simply sitting back with a bowl of popcorn and waiting for the show to begin. One calamity after another landed the pair in hospital again and again just like the old days except that now neither man was willing to accept treatment until the other was present. They knew the technician at the lab by her first name from the amount of times they’d been tested for contaminants they’d been exposed to during the Work, like always the pair of them risking everything and for now, their luck had held and they continued to survive relatively unscathed.

Tonight they were going out on a case and it wasn’t just any ordinary case. Someone was killing off singers who worked a circuit for customers who enjoyed cross-dressing. Sherlock was going undercover. When he emerged from his room he stopped John cold in his tracks, “You’re going out like _that?_ ”

Sherlock looked himself over, “Yes, _and_ you’re posing as my lover for the night so don’t let me get too far from you. Your clothes are adequate; you look just needy enough pay to be with someone like me.” At various times John had posed as Sherlock’s boyfriend, his business partner, his research assistant, his fellow Goodwill Ambassador, intern, fire-fighter, priest, and all manner of things. Tonight’s disguise was _lover_ so John just shook his head and eyed Sherlock as he ignored the insult and took in his flatmate’s appearance.

Sherlock was wearing a thin red camisole with delicate black straps that did nothing to disguise the fact that he also had a black bra on, though what it was containing was a lot of nothing, Sherlock was still flat as a board but something about his top made John’s mouth water. Sherlock’s stomach displayed each individual muscle clearly; his skin dewy looking and possibly covered with some kind of shimmer dust. The doctor’s eyes trailed down, following tiny lace strings until he got to Sherlock’s….bottoms. Entirely black they were incredibly low cut and they clung to the consulting detective, stopping just shy of his groin where long lacy straps descended hold up sheer black stockings. Sherlock was wearing low heels and they made his hips move differently when he walked which just made John’s eyes wander over to a particular area and stop. There was no bulge, “Are you…”

“ _Yes I tucked John!_ Hurry up, it’s already late and I want to get going!” Sherlock opened the clutch purse John hadn’t noticed and quickly drew on some lipstick and touched up the eye-makeup John had also failed to notice what with being entirely distracted by Sherlock’s outfit. Sherlock ruffled his hair and clipped on two large silver hoop earrings, before finishing with a very sparkly necklace which had a bauble that hung close to Sherlock’s nascent breasts, “Come along John!”

Sherlock laced his fingers in John’s and pulled his best friend out of the flat and into a taxi, his hips rolling disconcertingly as he moved effortlessly. John noticed that Sherlock had artificial fingernails now. They were long and painted red to match Sherlock’s top and his lipstick. There was a delicate perfume in the air and John was close enough to see that Sherlock had shaved extra close so his face was smooth and lightly covered in makeup. He looked youthful and sultry, so obviously a man but the way he moved! John’s hand tightened and unconsciously he opened the taxi door for the detective who winked flirtatiously at him, “Thank you John.” Sherlock’s voice had become slightly more feminine, a little breathy, and so soft. John had to blink before getting in; trying not to exhale in despair because once again he was up to his eyes in a Sherlock-grade escapade where John’s dignity had zero chances of survival.

On the ride to the address Sherlock gave the driver the detective made John pull his wallet out so he could stuff it with a large assortment of bills, “I don’t want your money Sherlock.”

“Hush John, you will need to pay for everything tonight and I don’t want you balking at prices. This particular club expects a certain sort of behavior so once we’re inside _don’t_ call me by my actual name.” Sherlock now tucked John’s much heavier wallet back into his pocket, “How do I look?”

John looked Sherlock over from head to toe. “Like a complete tart and what am I supposed to call you?”

Sherlock looked pleased with John’s description, “ _Charlotte_.” John had to practice that in his head a few times. It felt a lot like saying Sherlock so he didn’t want to slip up accidentally, “Do I have to have a cover name?”

“No, _John_ is fortunately common enough to work no matter what. It doesn’t matter anyway; I won’t be using your name.” John was left wondering what his new designation was going to be when their taxi stopped and Sherlock slipped out to stand on the sidewalk, his entire demeanor one of flirtatious nervousness. John had to shake his head before paying for their ride and joining his undercover lover for the night.

The first thing John noticed was that he wasn’t the only man with a man on his arm, nor was he the only man who’s man was dressed provocatively, though what that meant to each individual was very different. The soldier paid their way in and took in the riot of colour all around him. Fully half the club was filled with individuals who looked suspiciously like him, bland, ordinary, regular blokes. The other half were like Sherlock, widely varying in size and coloring but all of them garbed in everything from curlers and house-shoes to feather boas and very little else. There were plenty of women too, some dressed in exaggeratedly masculine garb, or in some cases, prettily and girlishly matched with their partners, “Couples only.” whispered Charlotte, his voice even higher than ever, “Take me to the bar and order our drinks, hold my hand. You are the dominant partner.”

John found that he was already holding Sher… _Charlotte’s_ hand so confidently he threaded his way through the crowd and ordered two of their house specials which turned out to be something filled with alcohol soaked fruits and layers of liquors. He sipped it cautiously and looked around, “What are we here for?”

“We’re going to mingle and try to meet some other couples,” whispered Charlotte, masking his conversation by chewing the tip of a cherry stem in a rather distracting way, “Don’t be afraid to behave as if we’ve been lovers for a long time, most of these couples know each other well. We’re looking for a pair, not an individual.” That made sense to John. All the bodies had been moved, it would be easier with two people to accomplish that.

John pulled the stem out of Sherlock’s fingers, and kissed them lightly, “The two in the far corner look like they’re holding court, start there?”

“Oh very good.” praised Charlotte with the same soft breathy voice, “Lead the way.” John took it easy, wending their way back and forth as they danced a bit and chatted with the odd couple here and there until he eventually ended up near the table in question. John charmed his way into being offered a seat and when Charlotte perched beside him John felt his breath freeze in his chest when Sherlock leaned in close and said plaintively, “ _Daddy_ , I need a drink.”

A hot bolt of something intense shot straight to John’s groin. It was testament to how inured John was to Sherlock’s eccentricities when he failed to bat an eye and simply caught the attention of a passing server. If this was the game this was the game, John was accustomed to working without rules, “What would you like Charlotte? What can Daddy get you?”

Sherlock preened prettily and ordered a complicated drink and a beer for John who wasn’t fond of mixed drinks, “Thank you Daddy.”

John received a round of approving looks from the other Daddies at the table, “She’s lovely.” one of them offered, “You been together long?”

John shrugged, “What’s it been beautiful? Five years now?” He took Sherlock’s hand and caressed it gently.

“Yes Daddy, we moved in together the day after we met.” replied Charlotte politely, her voice gentle and obedient. John let go and patted his knee and Sherlock preened again.

“That’s right beautiful, strangers one day, living together the next.” that was the truth at least, if not the whole truth. The conversation meandered around between the gentlemen while the ladies sipped their beverages and fixed their makeup and generally acted like bored housewives, though John had never witnessed a housewife behaving like they were. Everything was exaggerated, blown out of proportion as each man’s kink manifested. Some men were clearly into waifs, their partners tender looking youths in pinafores and white stockings, or the heroin chic crowd with pasty thin faces and narrow bodies. Others preferred their partners in worn house-robes with mob-caps on their hair; there was no couple that was exactly alike, the apparent females coming in every shape and size, some smooth and waxed, others with their natural body hair barely obscured by their costumes. “Let’s dance.” decided John when it was clear they weren’t going to learn anything at the table.

Charlotte stood gracefully and giggled when John slipped an arm around his waist and playfully swung Sherlock into his arms, “Daddy, you are a _terrible_ tease.” Sherlock swatted John’s shoulder and giggled again as John led him off to the dance floor. A slow song started just as they got there and Sherlock simply melted into John’s arms, his cheek on John’s temple as they moved. Sherlock whispered, “Behind the bar is a hidden door, the men at the table were keeping their eye on it, every fifteen minutes or so someone goes in but no one comes out.”

“Ideas?”

Sherlock wound his arms around John’s shoulders and kissed his way to John’s ear, his voice serious. John forced himself to breathe normally but he couldn’t stop his left hand from rubbing small circles into the bare bit of skin on Sherlock’s lower back, “Drug den, not what we’re looking for. This isn’t the club we need.”

“What now?” John was using every ounce of military discipline he had to ignore his reactions to Sherlock’s caresses. _They were on a case; his best friend wasn’t hitting on him!_

“Another drink and then we mingle some more.” Mingling garnered them an invite to another club the following night so after dancing some more John took Sherlock firmly by the hand and led him away. They kept up their act until they got home and Sherlock groaned as he kicked off his shoes and limped upstairs, “My toes are crushed together.”

It was a bit odd to hear Sherlock’s deep voice complaining loudly after an entire evening of Charlotte’s girlish whispers. John eyed Sherlock’s behind as he stomped up the stairs, his short pants really brought out the bounce in every step. “Wear something open-toed tomorrow.” he suggested and wondered if staring at his flatmate’s bottom was wrong though he could hardly help it. John was prepared to swear that Sherlock was almost shaking it in his face on purpose.

Sherlock collapsed on the sofa face down. “I’m making tea.” said John who took in a last eyeful of Sherlock’s incredibly presented posterior. Sherlock was fumbling blindly around and unsnapping the garters to his stockings and John had to turn away abruptly. Sherlock’s legs were so long and pale…

When John returned Sherlock had flipped over and he was rubbing his feet, his lips pursed in a moue of irritation, “How do women do this day after day? I’m going to have to wear flats tomorrow.”

John didn’t like that idea at all. If Sherlock was going to dress… _like that_ …and John had to _pretend_ to like it, then he wanted Sherlock to look… “I’ll rub your feet.” he said and when Sherlock looked at him in surprised he added, “All the other women were wearing the tallest heels they could find, you can’t wear flats! Everyone will know we’re not for real.”

Sherlock frowned, “Excellent point John. Well, get on with it.” Sherlock waggled a large foot in John’s direction and John had to keep himself from growling because Sherlock was still in his costume and he looked just so…John didn’t know how he felt. Suddenly he couldn’t stop noticing how well shaped Sherlock’s limbs were, and how the camisole really made his waist seem narrow, and how rounded his behind was, and how a flat-chested woman was actually a rather lovely idea, and oh my god, Sherlock made the most gorgeous sounds! “You alright?”

Sherlock was moaning and groaning and twisting already as John worked his thumbs over the sole of Sherlock’s foot, the stockings making the surface a bit slippery. He must have been in a lot of pain, there were lines on his feet where the edges of the shoes had cut in a bit. John smoothed his fingers over the welts and Sherlock groaned again, “I’ve got some cream in the bathroom cabinet, one second.”

John went and got a small tube of soothing cream he sometimes used. He sat on the end of the sofa and without thinking simply wrapped his hands around Sherlock’s thigh and pulled downward, stripping the long stocking off in one deft move. John was mostly finished removing the second stocking when he realized what he had done. Sherlock was watching him silently now so John pretended everything was perfectly normal and squeezed a bit of lotion onto his hand. Taking Sherlock’s foot up again John began to work it over again.

It was odd how quickly he lost himself in doing this. He rubbed one foot and then the other before returning to the first foot and repeating the massage a second time. Sherlock was limp and drowsy looking by the time John finally came out of his trance, “That was lovely.” said Sherlock sleepily, “I can’t move now.”

“You can’t sleep here.” said John softly, his voice a little more tender than normal, “Sherlock?” The detective’s eyes were closing, “No you don’t,” admonished John, “Up you get.”

John hauled Sherlock up, and suffered the taller man to slouch lazily against him as John walked him to his room, “You can sleep in the practically nothing you’re already wearing.” he teased Sherlock as he tucked him under his duvet. The detective was obviously asleep now, “Goodnight Sherlock.”

John shut off Sherlock’s bedroom light and was just pulling the door shut when he heard a soft dreamy voice say, “Goodnight Daddy.” and John felt a pull at his groin as powerful as a physical touch. The entire night seemed to catch up with him as he mentally reviewed everything he’d said and done for the last few hours. It had been so easy pretending Sherlock was his lover. It hadn’t flustered John even for a moment to be seen with Sherlock in his outfit, in fact _John had liked it_. Sherlock calling him _Daddy_ was one of the most arousing things John had ever experienced and in mere moments it seemed John was fully erect!

All the evening’s self-control deserted him as John took himself to the shower without bothering to get his robe. He shed his clothing as quickly as possible and as soon as the water was warm enough he took a slick handful of conditioner and worked his hand over his cock. Biting his lip to keep the moans in John had to brace his other hand against the wall as he fucked his fist furiously, snapping his hips aggressively until a muffled shout announced his successful completion. John stood panting under the spray and realized that Sherlock was in a lot of trouble if they went out a second night. John had no idea he would be affected by Sherlock dressing the way he had, if he’d been a woman John would have shrugged his shoulders and applauded her boldness but on Sherlock the outfit had looked debauched, naughty, _Sherlock was a bad little girl_ and John _more_ than liked it.

The next night John was more prepared for Sherlock’s appearance but he still felt that hot flush of desire when the detective emerged from his bedroom. His hair was carefully styled and reminded John of the bygone era of black and white film. He took in the rest of Sherlock. Tonight he was wearing a short dress with a flirty hem that seemed to want to fly upward at every opportunity. It was a rich deep plum, a shade that suited Sherlock very well and John stopped breathing as Sherlock pirouetted on tall pink heels and showed John the tight shiny pink shorts he was wearing underneath. They were sparkly and they had the words _Daddy’s Little Angel_ splashed across his bottom in matching plum letters. When he was facing John again Sherlock smiled and opened a new small clutch purse and painted his lips a red so dark it was almost black. The doctor couldn’t keep his eyes off of Sherlock’s mouth, couldn’t tear his eyes away from those plump, juicy, beckoning lips. Forcing his gaze to shift John noticed now that Sherlock was lightly made up, his skin flawless and youthful, his eyes bigger seeming than ever, his cheekbones faintly highlighted and he had huge tawdry rhinestone earrings on. John was growing faint now and finally he inhaled, “Perfect.” he wheezed.

“You as well John, you could not have looked frumpier if you tried.” Sherlock’s dry tone doused the flames of lust instantly, “Eat your dinner quickly John, we have to get going soon.”

John went to the kitchen and was astounded to find an entire meal waiting for him at his normal spot on the table. Sherlock had even gone through the trouble of setting John’s place properly, and had cleaned up after himself. Suddenly John could see Sherlock cooking in the kitchen wearing a French maid’s outfit and black stiletto heels, a tiny white apron barely concealing the distinctive bulge Sherlock’s trousers normally failed to hide. He sank into his seat silently and enjoyed a delicious meal, his chop perfectly done, all the vegetables delicately seasoned. When he was done he turned and saw Sherlock waiting in the doorway, his hands folded neatly together in front of him, “That was perfect Sherlock, very well done.”

John’s eyes widened a bit when Sherlock actually blushed and looked shyly at the floor, “Thank you D…John.” John barely bit back an appreciative growl. Sherlock had almost called him _Daddy_ and they weren’t out on their case yet! That hot something stirred deep inside John again and suddenly he was impatient to get going. He wanted to be somewhere Sherlock would be able to say _that word_ out loud; there was something about how he said it that resonated inside the soldier. John wasn’t positive but it looked like Sherlock was as turned on by their little ruse as John was.

Knowledge was power and the idea of Sherlock Holmes riding him, begging for his Daddy to see to him, his long pale legs wrapped around John, well that was enough for the soldier to throw all his preconceived ideals of heterosexuality right out the window and replace it with his new _Sherlock-sexual_ orientation. After all the years of sneaky glances and supressed regrets, Sherlock in women’s clothing was the temptation that John Hamish Watson simply could not resist. He needed to make sure.

“All ready?” deliberately John kept his voice low and steady, his _Captain’s_ voice, the soft voice of command that he’d earned and perfected over the long years. He was rewarded with a deeper blush and a shallow nod. Sherlock still wouldn’t make eye contact so John decided to push his suspicions just a little bit more, “Get your coat on then.” he ordered and enjoyed how Sherlock turned smartly on his tall heels and went to pull on a thigh length evening coat that went well with his dress. John admired the view for a moment before going to get his own coat on. “Off we go.” he said sharply the second Sherlock’s last coat button was fastened.

“Yes D…John.” stammered Sherlock a second time and from behind the consulting detective John simply grinned toothily. Tonight was going to be simply wonderful. John had to bite his lip as Sherlock led the way downstairs, the sway in his hips as he made his way down one step after another was enough to make John wish he could just take Sherlock right back upstairs to ravish him. Sherlock flagged down a taxi, earning two but John just helped him into the first one, deliberately holding Sherlock’s elbow to assist him in. The driver gave Sherlock an appraising once over and in with his voice pitched high once again Sherlock breathed, “Thank you _Daddy_.”

That inner fire roared back into life but John disciplined himself sternly, “Scoot over a bit Charlotte, there’s a good girl.” said John calmly and smiled to himself as Sherlock’s fingers trembled a bit but obediently he moved over so John could sit beside him, “Give the man the address love.”

“Yes Daddy.” said Sherlock and leaned forward to recite it to the driver.

“ _Good girl_.” praised John and Sherlock’s whole face turned pink but he was smiling a bit, turning to look out the window while his cheeks cooled. John was very, very satisfied. They might be on a case but it seemed that Sherlock had stumbled onto a mutual kink that neither man had been aware of.

When they were in front of the new club John was aware once again how Sherlock simply towered over him but for some reason John found that to be incredibly sexy. He knew he had it in him to bring that big tall man right down to his level and that’s exactly what _Three Continents Watson_ planned to do.

They merged easily into the disparate crowd once again. Sherlock was a perfect pet, allowing John to lead him around by the hand, leaning indolently against the doctor whenever they stopped to chat with anyone, and minding his manners perfectly. John was very pleased. He bought a drink that came with a straw so he could watch Sherlock’s lips purse around it as he drew in one careful sip after another, his marvelous eyes watching John hotly as the doctor openly admired him. John knew Sherlock loved attention; he’d just never considered _how_ Sherlock liked to get it. This suited John just fine.

John danced with Sherlock, enjoying looking up at the man in his arms. Sherlock had a small crooked smile on. He was enjoying himself and boldly John allowed his hand to wander up and down Sherlock’s back as he guided him around the dance floor. He could feel Sherlock’s heart begin to beat a little faster so with a falsely considerate voice John asked, “Do you need to sit down sweetie?”

Sherlock cut his eyes at a particular table that was mostly full and John nodded. Sherlock had spotted something so smoothly John brought him over, and once again charmed his way into joining the group. “Charlotte and I have only just started getting out together, I’m too much of a homebody, she deserves to be shown off a bit.”

“You’re a lucky man.” said one of the men at the table who was eyeing Sherlock boldly. John felt the smile drop off his face.

Sherlock’s arm settled lightly over John’s shoulders and he felt Sherlock press a kiss to his cheek, “I am the lucky one. I would be lost without my Daddy.”

John’s face relaxed as Sherlock made it clear to the other man that there would be no invitations forthcoming from the pair. John wasn’t interested in random hookups, they were on a case, not on the pull. “You keep my life exciting love, I guess that’s why we’ve been together so long.” John let the other man know that Sherlock was his and had been for some time. He didn’t need to know anything different but Sherlock hummed agreeably and kissed John’s cheek one more time before giggling and wiping off the lipstick marks with a lace hanky John suspect Sherlock had gotten from Mrs. Hudson.

“Daddy the show is starting!” squealed Sherlock and once more it took all of John’s iron will not to react out of character as Sherlock wiggled and clapped as the curtain of a dimly lit stage lifted. The houselights dimmed and the entertainment began. It was a dance number with several enthusiastic and flexible people gyrated and showed off while the singer winked and flirted with the audience as he sang. Suddenly Sherlock reached over and put his hand on John’s lap and tapped his index three times. John looked up and saw Sherlock cut a hard stare at a table across the dancefloor from them. Fourth from the end was someone wearing a long clinging black dress. Whoever the person was behind the layers of makeup was glaring daggers at the singer as her partner clapped too eagerly and whistled loudly. The second the smaller man turned back the black dress person became sweet and smiling, teasing and charming but the instant his man’s eyes were off of him the hate filled glare return.

John pulled Sherlock down for a soft kiss on the mouth. He didn’t have to, he just wanted to but to cover he whispered, “Suspect?”

“Yes Daddy.” said Sherlock breathily, “We should leave and come back in round back. The singer will be on for another twenty minutes.”

“Let’s go.” said John, kissing Sherlock firmly. He threw a devilish grin over to the rest of the table, “Sorry gents, she’s too pretty to keep out for long.”

“Don’t blame you.” said the hot eyed man. Sherlock kissed John again and deliberately pulled John’s arm around his narrow waist, covering his hand with his own so their fingers were spread across Sherlock’s lower belly. “Nice meeting you Charlotte.”

Sherlock smiled politely but looked away as John gave their farewells. The second they were out of earshot Sherlock whispered, “Remind me to send Molly and Donovan flowers. Both of them told me men could be like that but _seriously_.” John giggled and Sherlock smiled as he undulated away by John’s side. Casually they walked around the corner and headed toward the back of the club, Char…Sherlock’s skirt was doing nothing at all to obscure the almost obscenely plump vista of his behind and John had to force himself to focus on their surroundings. He’d be humiliated to be ambushed in a dark alley right in front of his best friend; he kept his eyes off the temptation in front of him.

Sherlock was having some difficulties with how his anatomy was currently arranged. John was so commanding, so devastatingly _in charge_ right now even if he was following behind him. Sherlock could hear John’s very walk change as he shifted effortlessly from everyday John Watson into _soldier_ John Watson, lethal, dangerous, surprisingly powerful. Sherlock regretted the tight pants he’d been forced to wear, he ached a bit, wishing he could be free a bit because his transport was definitely not behaving and it was becoming uncomfortable.

Sneaking into the club was easy, and soon enough they were hiding in the dressing room. The show ended and in a spectacular reveal Sherlock and John managed to catch the woman in black just as she attempted to stab the lead singer in the back. Screaming with rage she confessed in front of everyone and John caught that part on his camera as did two of the other performers. It didn’t stop the woman from attacking John in a crazed panic so before the Yard arrived Sherlock was treated to the sight of John physically disabling a man nearly a foot taller than he was who was armed with a knife and six inch stiletto heels.

Whatever Lestrade and his team thought of Sherlock in a skirt they kept to themselves. John found himself standing directly in front of his flatmate, shielding Sherlock from their curious gazes as they gave their statements and said their goodnights. They’d have to speak to Lestrade more later but for now they were free to go and slowly Sherlock hobbled away with John at his back. When they were out of earshot John heard himself ask, “Sweetie are you alright?” He caught himself abruptly. The case was over. He wasn’t….

“Take me home Daddy.” whined Sherlock, his voice still breathy and an octave higher than normal, “It’s very, very uncomfortable.”

John felt every desire to resist simply evaporate, his little girl was hurting and he needed to take care of her, “Alright sweetie, let’s take a cab.” John came up beneath Sherlock’s arm and helped him to a main street where they flagged down a cab and made their way home. Sherlock struggled to get up the stairs so John sat him on the sofa gently before locking the door and returning to him, “Tell me where it’s worst sweetie.”

Sherlock wiggled his feet so John eased him out of his tall heels while Sherlock sighed and moaned gratefully. He hadn’t broken character yet so John continued as well. He wanted to look after Sherlock/Charlotte, he loved looking after his little love. John was filled with a strange mix of feelings. He was protective and concerned but he was also aroused and weakening fast.

John was rubbing his feet and Sherlock couldn’t help how his back arched or the mewling cries that escaped him as the cramps disappeared but that just made his other problem worse, “Daddy!” he cried at last, “Please!”

“What’s the matter darling, where does it hurt?” asked John tenderly. There was something about how helpless Sherlock looked right then, how sweet his face was, how trusting he looked but then Sherlock’s hand slowly trailed down his own flat abdomen and stopped right over his pretty pink pants, “Oh.” said John blankly. Sherlock spread his legs a tiny bit and John could clearly see an erection hidden away, bent painfully out of sight and held in place by Sherlock’s too tight undergarments, “Oh sweetie that must hurt so much.”

“It does Daddy.” whimpered Sherlock, both men were lost to their desires, they had no idea where they were going or why this disguise out of all of the ones they had donned had allowed both of them to finally reach out. John’s gentle fingers stroked over the pink fabric and both of them groaned when Sherlock’s cock jumped a bit.

“Let’s get you out of this.” said John softly, mesmerized by the slow reveal of Sherlock’s hips as he tugged the brightly colored fabric away. Sherlock was wearing a very sturdy looking pair of pants that were clearly designed to obscure the fact that he was a man but that had trapped his genitals in an unkind fashion. John tugged them off and both of them moaned again as Sherlock’s cock sprang free, filling out quickly and laying against the crease of his thigh, thick and dark. “My poor baby, Daddy will take care of you.”

“Please Daddy.” begged Sherlock, “Please Daddy I need you.” he begged again.

“Anything sweetheart, tell me what you need.” his hands were already sliding up and down Sherlock’s thighs and they parted willingly, “You want me to kiss it and make it better?”

Sherlock held his breath, John wasn’t breaking character and it was the single most erotic thing he’d ever experienced. Keeping his voice deliberately high Sherlock answered, “Yes Daddy.” and felt his cock throb when John smiled as he bent his head and placed a firm kiss on the base of Sherlock’s cock. John Watson was kissing his cock! Sherlock almost came right there.

“Better?” asked John and his voice was deep and husky. Sherlock flushed as he heard another unscripted whine escape him. John was so gloriously caring, so tender, so achingly perfect that Sherlock could barely rock his hips to encourage another kiss and John did it. “One more maybe,” John kissed Sherlock’s cock again, “Just to be sure.” he said as he pressed another kiss on Sherlock’s head.

Sherlock had to, he absolutely had to, “Daddy.” he said sitting up slowly, “Let me say thank you.” he sank to his knees in front of John who looked both aroused and surprised, “Daddy may I?” he eyed the obvious bulge in John’s pants meaningfully and smiled softly when John gave a cautious nod. “Thank you Daddy.”

Sherlock was going to enjoy this. He liked orgasms as much as the next man but he never came across someone who actually _aroused_ him, not like John aroused him. John had woken Sherlock’s flesh the day they had met and for years now Sherlock had abstained from taking what he wanted but now look, John was sitting back on the sofa, his legs spread invitingly and his face was filled with encouragement, “You look beautiful.” Sherlock felt his cheeks heat as John praised him. John’s words had always been sweeter than anyone else’s but in this context Sherlock could feel himself melt right into the floor with happiness. He was going to make this so good for his Daddy.

Sherlock bent his head and smelled deeply. He wasn’t going to waste a single opportunity to gather data. John had been off limits for so long that Sherlock’s repressed desires were almost exploding out of him. John’s cock was exactly how Sherlock had envisioned it, thick, heavy, long but not monstrous, simply perfect. He filled his mouth with it, groaning with John as the hot solid width of it forced his lips to stretch and his cheeks to hollow. “My beautiful girl,” sighed John, his eyes fixed on Sherlock’s face, “My sweet Sherlock.”

Sherlock felt his hips buck and for a moment he feared he had ejaculated kneeling right in front of John. Why were _those_ words so efficacious? Why did Sherlock feel a sharp jolt of pure lust shoot straight from his brain right into his already throbbing cock when John called him _sweetie_ , or said he was _a good girl_ , or now as John’s fingers caressed Sherlock’s ear and cheek, encouraging him to keep moving. He pulled off slowly and stood there in his short skirt, his erection jutting out from under the brief fabric, “Take me to bed Daddy.”

John didn’t argue. His sweet Sherlock wanted to go to bed, so to bed they would go. Once they were in Sherlock’s room the detective peeled John out of every scrap of clothing before falling to his knees once again and eagerly resuming his previous task, “That’s such a good girl, look at you take my cock, you’re so good my darling, my beautiful baby, my lovely Sherlock.” Each compliment heated Sherlock up until he was moaning obscenely. “You want me to fuck your mouth don’t you darling? You want me to take your head and fuck that pretty mouth of yours until your lips are red, don’t you.”

Sherlock groaned again and had to pinch the base of his cock to keep himself from coming. He pulled off of John’s cock again and looked up at his Daddy, his voice pleading, “Yes Daddy, please Daddy.” he begged.

“Greedy little thing.” said John fondly as he pushed his cock back into Sherlock’s hungry mouth, “There you go love, take it all.” Sherlock couldn’t but he tried. He loved the feel of John’s strong hands on either side of his head as the soldier pushed his cock deeper and deeper with each thrust, “Suck the head,” he ordered and moaned when Sherlock obeyed, “Lick down, play with my balls.” Sherlock obeyed again, using his long clever tongue to roll and lap at John’s sensitive testicles, “Good girl, such a good girl. Good girls get rewards, up on the bed sweetheart.”

Sherlock managed to get off his knees enough to crawl onto the bed. John pulled him to the edge, shoving his chest to the mattress as he kneed Sherlock’s thighs wide, “Let Daddy taste.” crooned John and Sherlock nearly yelped as he felt John begin to kiss over his lower back and all over his behind, “I want to lick you here my angel, can I.” John’s finger traced over Sherlock’s bared anus and he nodded, “Thank you precious.” Sherlock’s cry was almost inaudible as John’s tongue swept over him. It was hot, soft, probing, and slick. It felt insanely good and it was a long time before Sherlock could think rationally and by then John was already fucking him with one finger, preparing him. “Where’s your lube baby? In the drawer? Tell Daddy.”

“Bottom…drawer…Daddy…” panted Sherlock, “Hurry!”

John smacked Sherlock’s behind lightly, “Bossy.” he fingered Sherlock, dribbling lube on as he worked his finger back and forth, “Just beautiful.” Sherlock was so gorgeous like this. Once again his clothing enhanced the natural slender lines of his body but still took nothing away from the obvious masculinity of his form. John found the contrast to be almost sinfully tempting, “Do you want this Sherlock, do you want me?”

Sherlock shivered all over because he knew John would stop if he said no, John would step back no matter how far gone he was, no matter how clearly aroused he was. John was a master of self-control but Sherlock had nowhere near John’s ability, “Please John…I…for so long… _please_.” Sherlock felt something slip loose inside, something needier than most people could deal with, something hungrier for more than the average person would want, “ _Daddy_.” he begged, asking John for everything with one heartbreaking word.

“Shh my little angel, Daddy’s here, Daddy will take care of you.” John’s fingers returned to their task, probing and nudging gently until Sherlock was rocking back to take them deeper, begging for a third finger until he was shamelessly rutting backward while John stroked his thighs and kissed his back. John wanted this too, he wanted to look after Sherlock, to sooth and caress him, to take him apart and put him back together, “Soon my darling, soon.”

John was careful in his preparations, he didn’t want to hurt his sweet lover a bit, he needed to last. Sherlock was a handful but then, so was John. The soldier needed someone as extreme as Sherlock to make his own needs seem almost normal. John craved the excitement Sherlock brought him, craved the danger they often found themselves in, and John definitely craved the flesh he was about to sink himself into, “Please Daddy.” whispered Sherlock, his voice deep once more but broken, already shattered with desire and John couldn’t hold himself back an instant longer.

Slicking his cock with a generous amount of lube John pushed in slowly, working deep into Sherlock who arched his back to ease the way, his breath coming fast and panicked so John slowed down and stroked his sides and his hips until Sherlock shuddered and relaxed, accepting John easily now until they were tight together. “So good, you’re so good.” praised John again, “I’m going to go slow and then I’m going to go hard. You promise to tell me if anything feels bad, or if you’re getting sore, you promise?”

Sherlock nodded his head, “I promise John.”

“That’s my boy.” praised John again and Sherlock felt a flood of warmth fill his heart. John knew exactly who he was speaking to, he wasn’t lost in a fantasy, he knew it was Sherlock he was with and _John still cared_. John cared for him deeply, Sherlock could sense it. This was more than sex, more than their first time, more than just getting off with one another. “You are so beautiful Sherlock.” John kissed Sherlock’s back again and the warmth in his heart grew.

John knew he would never want another person for as long as he lived. No one had ever made him feel like this, like his body had been designed specifically to fill Sherlock, like Sherlock was the only being in the world capable of making John feel every centimeter of his cock like it was amplified, the pleasurable throbbing already intense and compelling. The fact that Sherlock had used his name when he’d made his promise made John feel closer to his lover, he wanted to shelter and protect Sherlock as much as he wanted to fuck Sherlock until he couldn’t speak any more.

He moved.

Sherlock moaned as John’ s cock retreated and then pushed deep inside once more. It felt divine to be penetrated like this, John was had opened Sherlock to a whole new universe of sensation and it was the most addictive thing he’d ever encountered. Each push of John’s cock was perfect, wringing cry after cry out of him until Sherlock realized his breath was coming in broken gasps and that John was fucking him as hard and as fast as he could. The whole bed shook as John pounded into him, and Sherlock loved every violent thrust.

John pulled out and surprised Sherlock by flipping him to his back, yanking his hips over the edge of the mattress before the soldier pushed Sherlock’s legs high and re-entered him, “Oh yeah, that’s it, just like that.” he moaned, “You feel so good, you’re so gorgeous, so perfect.” Sherlock’s cheeks heated as John praised him over and over again. It was as dizzying as the incredible sensations which were building and growing, threatening to overwhelm him as John fucked him so hard the entire bed shook. John was fucking him in quick-fire bursts, short periods of fast shallow strokes followed by a minute or two of long deep thrusts. It was making Sherlock crazy.

“Look at you, you love Daddy’s cock don’t you.”

“Yes Daddy.” moaned Sherlock. He could barely think, he was so close.

“You love how hard I’m fucking you.”

“Yes Daddy, please Daddy!”

“You want me to keep fucking you?”

“Every…day…Daddy… _John_ …don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Sherlock cupped his testicles; he could barely stand to touch his cock. It was so hard it hurt. John was driving deep inside him, his entrance was so sensitive now, he could feel the texture of John’s shaft as it drove in again and again. “Oh!” it was going to happen, he felt his balls draw up tight, felt the almost agonizing tension grow and grow as his whole body grew hot.

“That’s it love, my beautiful Sherlock. Come for me, come for your John. I want to see your come all over your _gorgeous_ belly, all over your chest, come for me.” Sherlock heard his voice break as he cried out and it did sound like he was crying as he shouted John’s name and struggled to breathe as his entire body twisted and shook with the most intense orgasm he’d ever had.

John grasped his hips and fucked him harder than ever, moving unbelievably fast, his hips flashing as his guttural grunts mingled with Sherlock’s desperate gasps for air. Gritting out something that might have been Sherlock’s name John thrust deep one last time and held himself there as his cock pulsed and emptied itself deep inside Sherlock’s body. John had never had an orgasm burn through him like that, each throb of his cock made his hips jerk so hard it was nearly painful, bucking deep into Sherlock again and again until he finally stagger back, extracting himself carefully.

He looked at Sherlock laying nearly senseless on the bed, legs spread wide, come leaking from his ass, dripping off his stomach and chest, staining the skirt and top he was still wearing. Sherlock’s makeup was smeared and John had never seen someone look sexier than an absolutely destroyed consulting detective, “Look at you.” he crooned, “You’re just a mess aren’t you, totally wrecked.”

“John.” said Sherlock, his voice weak and frail sounding. His arms barely worked, his body was unresponsive. He was so incredibly satisfied now that he knew he would never be able to stop himself from offering himself to John in whatever way it took to get this again and again.

“It’s alright precious, just rest. I’ll take care of you.” John kissed Sherlock’s mouth softly and left the room. He came back a few minutes later with a handful of hot damp flannels. Peeling Sherlock out of his soiled things John washed his lover down before he cleaned himself off. Running his fingers through Sherlock’s hair John eased him back onto the pillows and covered him carefully. “Want me to stay or do you want to sleep?”

Sherlock didn’t want John to go anywhere! “Stay, please John.” Sherlock felt warm inside as John just slid under the blankets naked and let him curl up against his side, his head on John’s shoulder, “Goodnight Daddy.”

John’s fingers returned to Sherlock’s hair, stroking his curls gently, “Goodnight love.” and he was his love. John felt so foolish for not realizing sooner but who else held his heart as tightly as Sherlock? No one. Maybe tonight was an aberration, maybe they’d never indulge in this kink again but John was sure that this wouldn’t be the only time they shared a bed, or at least, he hoped so.

As if he could sense John’s growing unease John heard, “Don’t be silly John.” said Sherlock, his eyes closed and his breath growing even, “Rest. You know I need a lot of looking after, you need your energy.” John smiled up at the ceiling. So this was them now. He closed his eyes and felt good about the world. Maybe it had taken a pair of sparkling pink pants to open his eyes but he’d never been so grateful to be shown the light. Hugging Sherlock a little tighter John kissed his forehead, “I love you Daddy.”

“I love you too sweetie, I love you too.” they slept.


End file.
